


Caretaker

by aurumdalseni (kyo_chan)



Series: Voltron Ficlets [10]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: I don't even know if that's the ship name, M/M, Shunk, but here have some implied Shunk, with a little bit of fun about Altean tissues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 12:56:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9608477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyo_chan/pseuds/aurumdalseni
Summary: Shiro should know better than to argue with Hunk when he wants to take care of someone.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Writing prompt from my blog "“Honey, you’re sick. Go lay down, I’ll make you some soup.” It was a shameless excuse to play in rarepair hell, which is often my favorite place to be. <3 Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Talk to me about Voltron or prompt me [here](http://aurumdalseni.tumblr.com) or [here](paladinpuppypile.tumblr.com)!

Four fully armed and armored paladins stand at the center of the training deck, staring at each other. The fifth is about twenty minutes late.

“So, can we enact the ten minute rule and cut class if he doesn’t show up?” Lance asks, stifling a yawn.

“No,” Keith grumbles, but there’s a knot of concern in his brow.

“Should we go check on him? It’s not like him to sleep in. Ever.” Pidge shuffles from foot to foot. She’s ready for training, but she’s just as ready to escape back to her tech too.

“Maybe we give him just a few–”

“Morning, team.”

Shiro makes his way through the main doors – and he looks like hell. Not the ‘glowing alien wound, crash landing at about 25 meters per second’ hell, but the chapped nose, red-eyed blotchy, clammy kind of hell. He’s gotten into his armor, but he walks like it weighs a ton, dragging his feet, entirely unmotivated.

“Shiro? Are you–?”

“Never going to take tissues for granted ever again? Yes.” His voice is scratchy, the words wet and congested.

Lance cringes and takes a step back. “I don’t think I wanna know what Altean tissues are like.”

“Baby wipes,” Shiro answers. “Used ones.”

Now they’re all cringing.

Shiro sighs. “Can we just get this training going?”

“Nope,” Hunk announces, pushing his way past the other three, who are still looking at Shiro like they don’t know whether to hug him or run. The running option looks like it’s currently winning. “No training for you today. You’re going right back to bed.”

Shiro narrows his eyes. “Saving the universe doesn’t stop just because I have a cold, Hunk. We’re all here, let’s just–”

“No backtalk.” Hunk stands before him and crosses his arms, stern. “I’m gonna give you three good reasons why you’re gonna turn right around and go back to your room. You ready? Good. One,” he holds up one finger to tick off, “training with you is going to put us all at close range with whatever virus you have, and frankly one paladin is enough. Two, you’re kind of a masochistic idiot when it comes to taking care of yourself, and that’s just going to make it worse. No offense. That leads me to number three, which is the more you take care of it now, the faster you’ll be back down here and kicking our butts around the room with the gladiator. Am I clear?”

Lance, Keith and Pidge are picking up their jaws from the floor. Shiro is clearly taken aback, because all he can do is nod, which makes Hunk smile, softening his entire face. He doesn’t miss a beat to step forward and close the distance between them. He takes hold of Shiro’s shoulder and turning him right back around to the doors. The others watch in fascination as Shiro barely puts up a fight, even when Hunk moves his touch to the small of his back and gently guides him out of the training area.

Shiro allows himself to be ushered down the hall, but when they’re safely out of earshot, he pauses. “This really isn’t necessary, Hunk.”

He was having none of that. “It’s necessary and it’s happening.” Hunk’s hand drifts down until he’s holding Shiro’s, and he makes a concerned noise. “Your hand is ice cold, Shiro. Definitely getting you taken care of.” He touches the pad at the door to Shiro’s room. The doors slide open with a whoosh.

“Hunk…”

“Hon, you’re sick. Go lay down, I’ll make you some soup. I promise it won’t be made out of green goo.”

Shiro smiles a little at that and leans down just enough to nuzzle at Hunk’s cheek. “You’re too good to me.”

Hunk makes a face at how hot Shiro’s cheek is in comparison to the hand he’s holding. “No such thing.” In spite of all his talk about catching the virus, he shows no fear in turning his head to kiss his cheek. “Go on.”

Shiro reluctantly pulls his hand free and steps into his room. “You think you could find me real tissues too?”

Hunk laughs, already thinking about soup ingredients. “I’ll see what I can do.”


End file.
